


Scattered

by Ecinue



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Apocalypse, BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, No beta we die like Dream against Techno, Not really though, Somewhat edited, Song Lyrics, look i wasnt gon add a lot of tags but i had to tag that, no beta we die like l'manberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecinue/pseuds/Ecinue
Summary: Will I stay where it's safe and sound......we must keep fighting...
Relationships: Don't Ship Real Life People, No Romantic Relationship(s), platonic only, shippers dni - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 192





	Scattered

**Author's Note:**

> This is primarily based on the Omake Pfadlib song and the apocalypse AU made by @ATiredShota on Twitter!!! Please check zem out~~
> 
> https://twitter.com/ATiredShota
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, universe, or song. All of these are based on the MCYT fandom and the Apocalypse AU made by Shota. Everything belongs to their rightful owners. I only wrote events based on the song and the artwork that Shota has done. Please do not ship any of the characters as they are real-life people and many have stated that they are uncomfortable with it. With that being said, I hope you enjoy!

**Will I stay where it's safe and sound?**

Two boys huddled inside of a rundown building, hiding behind the debris from the mecha mob that was in pursuit. Their blue eyes clashed for a moment, unspoken words conveyed at that moment. The blond male ( _not yet a man but experienced too much for a child, hiding fear behind those bold words_ ) wrapped the gauze around the brunette’s leg as the latter kept watch ( _devastatingly_ _young hiding fear behind those soft words_ ).

“Tommy,” The brunette whispered, careful to not draw attention from the horrifying creatures outside. “You’re injured too.”

The blond brushed off his words, focused on his task. “Yours is more important, Tubbo. I just got a scratch. You got a whole fucking gash in your leg.”

The brunette fell silent as his mechanical bees hovered in the air, ready to assist them at a moment’s notice. Outside, the mecha mob moved away from their building, its stature casting a shadow over the ground.

**Will I fight ‘till I hit the ground?**

An android stood alone in a wrecked city, bodies surrounding him as he surveyed his surroundings. He propped a gun against his shoulder, his free hand clenching into a fist. His wires gleamed red as his vision caught movement from one of the buildings down the street. A familiar feeling ( _tension, apprehension, his senses were spiking_ ) seemed to make its way into the android’s body, seeping into his mechanical limbs as he saw the hints of a skeleton mecha mob.

“Target spotted. Commencing extermination.”

**Inside the bitter cage**

_Before they lost the war, there was a soldier who was just like all the others: a government puppet whose sole purpose was to live and die for the sake of the higher-ups. Every day was a test as he suffered through the brutal hardships. They had told him that his duty was to the world and he was expected to make any sacrifices in order to obtain peace for others. He watched older soldiers get shipped off to the frontlines, many never returning. The little soldier watched as the governments utilized their resources, making beautiful tools and new tech. Briefly, he wondered if they, the soldiers, were disposable to the government._

_Sometimes, when he wandered around, the look of defeat seemed like a permanent mark on the stark faces of the other soldiers. Those that survived looked as if they were dead men walking. No goals, no purpose, no reason to still be here. The little soldier was terrified. He longed to be free._

_Perhaps the government had heard his wish. The next time he was called in, he was given new equipment: flight technology. The soldier gripped the wings with his fingers, making a vow to himself._

_As long as he was in the flight unit, he would never allow himself to be locked in a cage again._

_The little bird wondered, however, if he could ever find the keys to his eternal prison._

**All the flowers wilt down in the crimson sky…**

_Before they lost the war, there was a warrior who was invincible on the battlefield._

_They called him the Blood God, crimson following in his wake whenever he appeared on the battlefield. Though it was a mystery to everyone where the color appeared as mecha mobs die with sparks and not drops of red liquid. The government knew of his skills, stationing him at the most dangerous places, ordering him to fight off the high leveled mecha mobs with bounties over them. He sported a blue sword that clashed against his pink hair, cutting down all of his enemies ruthlessly. Other soldiers gazed at him with envy, admiration, and most importantly, fear._

_Off of the battlefield, the warrior wonders what is his purpose. Was it only to fight until the bitter end? How long must they continue fighting this losing war? He enjoyed the thrill of a battle but even the best soldiers get tired of the same opponents. He wondered if there was a true purpose for him, a purpose not on the crimson battlefield_

_There was another soldier, one that would occasionally give him a pleasant smile beneath the white mask that they wore. That soldier had the aura of a hunter rather than a warrior and the two were often remarked as rivals. Although everyone pitted them against each other, the hunter and the warrior understood each other, beneath their masks of a smiling face and a murderous pig, they understood what it was like to be a soldier without a purpose and goal. Eventually, they stopped seeing each other. In a war, friendships can be fleeting._

_The warrior was lonely, held on a pedestal above most others. His reputation preceded him, displaying him as a ruthless killing God. Every time that he killed, someone would mutter and someone would whisper and someone would chuckle; “Blood for the Blood God.” Yet, they can never meet his eyes but rather marvel at his achievements from a distance._

_As glorious as this title was, he wondered if there was something else out there, something else he had yet to find. The warrior wondered why every time he killed, the air would become tinted crimson, enhancing his bloodlust. Every so often, when the mecha mobs were dead and he combed through the debris for more prey, he would stumble upon flowers._

_Trampled plants, ruined by the disaster that had befallen the world._

_The warrior vows that one day the world can finally be at peace again._

**Take my hand**

Skeppy is a death machine. Even if he is a machine, he understands that his purpose was to kill. Or, at least that was his purpose before they lost the war.

He remembers brief moments from the war, the sound of gunfire ringing through the air, chaos between the mecha mobs and the machine soldiers. He remembers hearing orders to retreat, orders to stay alive, orders that he failed. He remembers...going dark and then waking up to a stranger wearing a black mask staring down at him.

He doesn’t remember precisely how he got into that alleyway and he can’t remember the faces of people from his past. He does not remember what it is like to be outside of his machine body. He does not recall what it feels like to have a human body. He cannot remember what it was like to be at peace, away from the battlefields.

And yet, now that he was traveling with this priest, a man called BadBoyHalo, Skeppy finds himself strangely content. Sure, he has never seen someone with so many ducks, but caring for the ducks provides a strange peacefulness that Skeppy has not felt in a long time. He has never hidden his guns for this long either.

Bad...has been very kind to Skeppy, something the latter does not understand. He repaired Skeppy, taught Skeppy basic human speech again instead of speaking machine orders, and gave him a strange type of peace. The debt that Skeppy owes Bad was immeasurable, he supposed.

Now, as they walk on top of a fallen mecha’s arm, Bad leading the line and Skeppy bringing up the rear, Skeppy wonders why the world seems so peaceful when the destruction still contaminates it. The buildings in the back are toppled, greenery overtaking them and forming a small waterfall, beautiful amongst the debris.

Bad holds a cluster of ducks in his arms, humming cheerfully as a line of ducks follows him. Skeppy brought up the rear, cradling a single duck in his arms as another sat on his head. This feeling...content...Skeppy thinks that this is a gift.

“Skeppy? Are you okay?”

Bad’s voice interrupts his thoughts and he pauses for a moment before responding in a soft tone.

“Yeah, everything’s okay.”

**Will we run or stay**

_Shortly before everything went to hell, he wondered if he should flee or not._

_It was common knowledge amongst scientists of the government that the war was not going to be won. No matter how hard they tried, they just couldn’t produce enough tech for the soldiers to fight against the mecha mobs. The humans could not mass produce their technology as the mecha mobs could. As the leader of the scientists, Fundy knew better than anyone else that they were going to lose._

_Perhaps that’s why he took preemptive measures._

_He created a protogen body using a design that he had intended for an android. He hid it from the government, knowing that they would never approve. Then, when the day came, when his human body was killed and his mortal life was taken, he transferred his consciousness into the body._

_Fundy refused to die just yet, not when there was still so much to do._

**In this world full of cruelty?**

_Before they lost the war, there was a soldier who hunted better than all the others._

_He was...seen as different from the others, his bloodlust unrivaled by all others besides perhaps a single warrior that was revered amongst their troops. He was good at fighting, no, not just good, he was spectacular at fighting. Agile, quick, precise, the hunter was specifically told to participate in stealth missions that would require efficient killing. Unlike the warrior who was allowed to do as he pleased on the frontlines, the hunter had to be wary and work efficiently under the government’s watch, lest he is disposed of._

_Perhaps that’s why the resentment began to build, hatred for the government bubbling deep within him. The government does as they please with him, using him as a puppet. They replaced his name with a new one (not that he’s exactly complaining, it is a nice name) but it only deepens his sense that they are controlling him._

_He hides everything beneath his mask of a smiley face, using it as a wall against the world. Sometimes, when they’re in the halls, he runs into the warrior. They glimpse each other for a moment and they understand each other: the pressure, the fear, the longing. They had a kinship that not many others would understand. Or at least, that’s what the warrior probably thought._

_The hunter thought differently. Sure, they were both under pressure, but the warrior had leeway. It was a battle and the warrior was seen as a god. People favored him. Surely, he would be fine. The hunter, on the other hand, worked hard to get to his position. He thought of new strategies for his missions and he implemented them well. Besides, he and the warrior had very differing personalities. In comparison, the hunter preferred his companion more, the soldier with the bandanna._

_The hunter knows they will lose the war. Quite frankly...the hunter can’t be asked to fight for peace when he knows that that utopia is all but a pipe dream._

**Will we take to arms with the hope to see the sun again?**

He wonders how much longer this war will run on for. A journalist turned scout, Wilbur questions how much longer they would have to wait until the world got better. How much longer would it be until they could stop fighting and take a break? He was tired, exhausted from running from the mecha mobs. The only reason that he is alive, he often thinks, is because he cannot, _will not_ , abandon his friends in this hell.

If they go down, they will go down together.

Perhaps this is why he follows the other two, towards a dream of a better world.

**We pray…**

“You’re already attached to those kids.”

Technoblade’s monotone voice carried over to Wilbur’s ears as the latter sighed, pressing his cheek into his hand. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes,” Technoblade responded, his mask missing from his face, pink hair ruffling in the wind. “Are you going to rescue them?”

“They’re _kids_ , Techno,” Wilbur emphasized.

“We’ve run into _kids_ before, Wil,” The pink-haired ex-soldier mocked, mimicking his emphasization. “You’ve never bonded with those as you have with these two.”

Wilbur looked away, staring out onto the landscape from the building they were currently standing in. It had been a few days since they caught sight of the two boys hiding in their territory. Techno had been kind enough to slaughter the mecha creeper stalking them but he hadn’t said anything else. The looming figure of a mecha enderman miles away towered above the remains of ruined civilization as the two men gazed out onto the destroyed world.

“I want to protect them, Techno,” Wilbur finally answered. “They’re kids. They shouldn’t be dealing with this.”

“Wilbur, that’s why we’re hunting the dragon,” Techno said monotonously. “After the dragon’s dead, the mecha mobs will be gone and we can finally live in peace again.”

Wilbur gave Techno a wry smile as he turned back to the landscape. Sure, he was working with Techno and Phil for the chance at a peaceful world. Still...how much longer would it be until they could be at peace? Would they actually be able to achieve it? What if they died before that happened?

He prayed for their little trio’s safety, he prayed for the two young boys’ safety, he prayed for a better world, and most importantly, he prayed that everyone would be okay at the end.

**Do we lack the strength to fight?**

_Before the war was lost, he was the most favored and focused-on special soldier. He was the speedrunner, created for the sake of “speedrunning” the invasion. A part of a special unit designed to fight past the mecha mobs and retrieve the artifacts as quickly as possible, the soldier knew that the stakes were high when it came to his missions. They had to collect materials to prepare for the fight against the ender dragon, the mecha mob responsible for this, and if they failed, then they lost. If his unit completed their goal, they could change the tides in their favor._

_He never expected for everyone except him to die._

Now, after the war, he finds himself exploring the ruined world. He wonders if he should go to the wasteland where the assassin is hiding. He wonders if he should pick a side in the disagreements between the hunter and the warrior. He wonders if he should seek his purpose, something new that wasn’t forged for him out of desperation. He wonders if he is anything more than a simple soldier.

They called him “Illumina”, the soldier created for the sole sake of speedrunning the fight against the invasion. Is he still “Illumina”, even when the war is lost?

**Have we lost the will to fly?**

There are times that Phil wonders what is the point of their goal.

Fighting mecha mobs constantly grew exhausting even though he knew that he didn’t have to worry about regeneration. It was hard to find food with the world being a literal wasteland and maintaining their equipment could prove difficult occasionally considering none of their little group were really mechanics before the war was lost.

Don’t misunderstand, he’s more than aware that if they accomplish their goal of defeating the Ender Dragon then the world could be _truly_ peaceful again. Still, he wonders if they can accomplish it at all. It is already difficult to fight off mecha mobs when protecting each other; he can’t even fathom the amount of danger they would be in against the ender dragon. Sometimes, he wonders if Dream was right in choosing to live out their lives here instead of aiming to kill the ender dragon. Sometimes, he wonders if Techno was a little deluded and too optimistic. Sometimes...he wonders if he should’ve just given up and died on the battlefield that day.

But then, he sees glimpses of Techno without his mask, a wry smile on his face as he tells sarcastic jokes. He sees the bright laughter, although slightly haunted, coming from Wilbur as he cackles at the jokes. He sees the way that Dream defends and protects his team with his life and he sees how much Wilbur cares for the two small boys that had crossed through their territory. ( _He wouldn’t admit it just yet but he cared for them too._ )

In a sense, he was like Dream. He was fine with living in this current world so long as he could protect his family. His family...Techno and Wilbur were part of _his_ family. Whenever he questioned their goals, he reminded himself of what made him different from Dream. Even though Dream was fine with living like this, Phil wanted a peaceful life for his family, away from the ghosts and memories of war.

As long as his family was here, Phil will fly to the very limits for them.

**The world is dark…**

_Before the war was lost, there was a soldier created for the sake of crushing mecha mobs._

_The government made a machine, a battle body with a humanoid shape and a cube for the head, displaying the emotions on the screen in the front. The body had two large mechanical arms made specifically for crushing things. The soldier’s consciousness was transferred over, or at least that’s what he was told, and then, he became the berserker._

_He was told to kill and kill he did. He was taught that mecha mobs had no emotion, had no feeling, that they only existed to kill humanity. Thus, fighting back and killing mecha mobs was only an act of just revenge, not some cruel act of murder. He obeyed the government’s orders, both because he never knew to question them and he physically could not question them._

After the war was lost, he found himself lost in the wasteland. A lost machine, that was what he was, it appeared. He wandered around, crushing any mob that blocked his path. Slowly, but surely, he began to regain curiosity and appreciation for life.

He wondered if anyone would come to accompany him.

**The world is cruel…**

_Before the war was lost, there was a small soldier that was trained to keep quiet._

_His trainers taught him to stay silent, to be stealthy, to be the perfect assassin. Of course, the soldier never questioned them for his life was tied to them. If he moved out of line, he could easily be killed. He worked hard, moving up the ranks quickly, determined to make himself worthy to the cause._

_Still...he wondered what it would be like to speak his mind, to be able to talk without persecution. He only talked when asked by his trainers, never opening his mouth otherwise other than to eat or drink. Breathing was taught through the nose and the little assassin wondered what it would be like to be able to speak his own mind._

_He stopped wondering when he watched another assassin die on a mission._

_They were on the mission together, hiding amongst debris from the mecha skeleton that was roaming the area. It should’ve been easy; two assassins against a simple mecha skeleton. It should’ve been easy considering how many resources they had at hand and how it was only the three of them. But...it wasn’t as easy as the little assassin had thought._

_His partner was hidden near him, only a few feet away. They were of the same class as him but they were clearly terrified. The assassin wasn’t quite sure why considering they had been on worse missions. The partner had been breathing heavily, clearly scared of the skeleton mob. They whispered something, a small prayer of sorts. They peeked around the corner and then-_

_They were dead. An arrow entered their skull clearly, blood splattering behind them as it nailed his partner to the wall. The skeleton whirred with satisfaction._

_From that moment on, even after the skeleton was dead and the assassin was safe back at headquarters, he knew that he would never speak of his own accord. If he did, he would die._

_Muted, he would stay._

**But still, we hang on tight…**

_The day that the war was lost, the mechanic found himself sprinting far away from the headquarters, looking to hide somewhere. If the war was lost, then surely he would die if he stayed. His fighting experience was limited and he had barely taught himself how to use a bow and arrow. His skill was limited to his craft._

_The mechanic didn’t have much on him, only his bow and arrow and his faithful goggles. He was terrified, his heart jumping like a jackrabbit in his chest. He hid in the wasteland, away from the government, away from the soldiers, away from the mecha mobs. He was running; where exactly...he wasn’t actually sure._

_He just hoped that he would live._

**If this final breath could somehow save this world**

_His vision was going dark. His supply was depleting and he did not know where the rest of his unit was. The machine- no, soldier- struggled to stay conscious. There was no backup coming. Did the government abandon him? He did not know. His vision was going dark and he could not stay awake._

_The last he thought of was that he wished he could have returned to his human body at least once more._

**I’d breathe my last sigh, and close my tired eyes**

“Tubbo, don’t you dare shut your eyes before we get inside.”

The brunette blinked sluggishly as Tommy shook him slightly. “I wasn’t closing my eyes.”

“Yes, you were!” Tommy argued as they ducked into the small bunker area they had been staying in. It was getting dark outside and the mecha mobs were beginning to cluster in parts of the city. “Come on, turn on the lights, and go lie down. I’ll lock and barricade the door.”

Tubbo groaned and moved to open the small little Christmas lights that decorated the top of their little bunker. “Are we clear?”

“Yeah.”

Tommy sighed slightly in relief before moving into his spot next to Tubbo. The latter hummed lightly before closing his eyes and allowing himself to drift into unconsciousness. They were safe...for now.

**And all the ones we’ve lost, we’d find again**

_The day that Sapnap and Dream found each other again, Sapnap felt as if his world grew a little brighter._

_He never really had friends before the war was lost. Other soldiers avoided him because he was loud and brash and he sought joy in a place where they were being forced to fight. He was an anomaly in their ranks. Perhaps that was why he became friends with the hunter; their bloodlust and antics rivaled only by each other. However...the day the war was lost, they lost each other. Sapnap wandered alone until finally...finally, he found Dream again._

_He had run across the area that separated them, launching himself towards his friend who caught him and returned the embrace with just as much fervor. Dream was warm, he was alive, and that was what was important. Sapnap didn’t know who the other person was, the strange man with goggles and a blue jacket._

_For now, all that mattered was that his friend was alive and they were together again._

**In this beautiful world, we’ve wished for**

Bad was...strange to say the least.

He knew that he was mysterious, refusing to speak about his past whenever questioned or dodging the questions directed towards him. He remained rather happy most of the time, prioritizing his ducks above anything else, raising them happily. He was “pure” and refused to swear with foul language even when he was angry. All in all, he was...weird.

To himself, he knew that there would be a day where Skeppy would grow suspicious and he would have to choose between telling Skeppy the whole story or allowing his friend to leave him behind. For now, however, Bad was at peace with ignoring the mecha mobs, picking the perfect paths to avoid them as he lived a joyous daily life with his ducks. And Skeppy.

The world was beautiful right now, in his eyes.

**But the world grows darker**

“Dream, where are you?”

_“I’m coming back right now.”_

George didn’t know whether to screech in frustration or give Dream the good ol’ silent treatment. He decided that for time’s sake, he would do neither. “Just...hurry up or you’re not going out next time. It’s getting dark.”

_“Fine.”_

Dream exited the channel and George found himself slumping in their current base. Sapnap glanced over, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Dream’s coming back late again?”

“Yup,” George responded bitterly. What did Dream not understand about staying in the base at night, out of the darkness, away from the mecha mobs? The night was coming and the world was darkening.

Internally, Sapnap concluded that if Dream didn’t make it back soon, he was going to die tonight, either by the mecha mobs or by George.

**We can’t recover**

Now, long after the war was lost, Mega wanders the wasteland, searching for his purpose. He hides in the abandoned structures of mankind, striking down any mecha mob that dared to stand in his way. He remains muted, sealing his voice away as he continues to fight for his survival. Sometimes, he thinks he can feel the presence of survivors, somewhere in the wasteland. Most of the time, he pushes it aside and continues along his way. There is no need to get caught up in unnecessary trouble for strangers.

He can’t recover from the years of training that was ingrained in his being.

**This narrow cage we depend on slowly crumbles…**

_The day that the war was announced as a loss for humanity, the five special soldiers rushed into action, something they were best at and trained for. However, “action” no longer meant battle; “action” meant a run for survival._

_The quiet assassin was the first to know, hiding in the shadows as he listened. The government trained him to be stealthy, to be quiet. He knew nearly everything, being able to evade other people quickly. Thus, when he heard that the war was lost and that there was going to be no more backup sent to the battlefield, he knew that he had to leave the headquarters. Leave, he did, dodging all others. For a moment, he encountered another special soldier, one that wore an all-black outfit like a ninja. They had a moment of understanding and then the little assassin was sprinting off, off to become hidden in the wasteland._

_The “speedrunner” was the second to know. His unit had failed and the mecha mobs were still pouring into the battlefield in waves. Even the legendary warrior could not possibly fight them all off. Heading towards his quarters, ready to pack up and flee, he made contact with the small, muted assassin of their ranks. They had paused and stared at each other. In the end, the speedrunner knew what the small assassin was doing and allowed them to go on their way. He headed to grab his items and then...he fled. There was no use in staying when everyone was going to die._

_Third, to overhear the news, the hunter immediately set off to find his friend. He hadn’t intended to overhear but the officials were speaking in loud and panicked tones, not bothering to hide it. If they were truly losing the war, the hunter had to find his friend first. He had run through the halls, searching for the pyromaniac with a bandana. In the end, he didn’t end up finding his friend before the entire building fell apart, descending into chaos as it crumbled and burned._

_High in the skies, the little bird was fourth to discover this, in perhaps one of the most heartbreaking circumstances. The fighting grew exhausting and it wouldn’t take long for his unit to fall to the mecha mobs at this rate. Phantom mecha mobs swooped down to attack the flight units, a new type of mob that was manufactured to destroy the flight units. When the little bird called for help, he was shocked to discover that no backup would be provided. Humanity had lost the war and the little bird could only watch as his team was slaughtered._

_Lone on the battlefield, endlessly hacking down mecha mobs, the warrior didn’t find out until he made his way back and discovered the destroyed headquarters. The waves of mobs had poured in and he had allowed his instincts and senses to take over, hacking away and killing them all with his gleaming blue sword. When all the mobs were dead and no further reinforcements came in, the warrior realized something was wrong. His allies were missing._

_Rushing back to the headquarters, the warrior discovered that everything was in shambles, destruction splattered across the land. With nothing except the clothes he wore, his beloved pig mask, and his faithful sword, he abandoned the headquarters, vowing to revert the world back into its peaceful state._

_The day that the war was announced as a loss for humanity, the clock began to tick and the story began to pick up its pace._

**Is this the end we cannot mend?**

Sometimes, Techno wonders what it is like to be Dream.

Unbridled by the world, a free spirit, a typical wanderer, Dream had always been the better one between the two of them. He adapted quickly to his settings, his situations, to the people around him. Meanwhile, Techno faced the troubles of his anxiety on a daily basis, his inability to be more than sarcastic, his avoidance of other survivors except for Phil and Wilbur, and his crude jokes about orphans because he can’t be funny. Dream doesn’t have to deal with any of that. How lucky.

( _His friends think otherwise. Phil knows that Techno is terrified they might leave him and head off into the world, fearful that they might give up on their dream. He makes sure to reassure Techno that they’re not going anywhere, that they’re here to stay and they’ll follow him to the end. Wilbur knows that Techno has trouble expressing himself. He makes sure to be there, backing up Techno’s jokes and being available to talk. To them, Techno is amazing just as he is now._ )

**We’re slowly dying**

Sometimes, Dream wonders what it is like to be Technoblade.

Calm and collected, determined to save the world when it does nothing for him, a bounty hunter, Technoblade had always been the better one between the two of them. He was fearless, able to win in every situation possible, and was basically a magnet for high-leveled people. Meanwhile, Dream faced the troubles of his insecurity on a daily basis, rebellious against every single rule in existence, putting on a mask (figuratively and literally) around everyone, and bullies others with weird jokes because he can’t be funny. Technoblade doesn’t have to deal with any of that. How lucky.

( _His friends think otherwise. George knows that Dream has been brave for so long, hiding his true fear and insecurities under his mask. He makes sure to compliment Dream every-so-often, to remind the latter that he could be free around them. Sapnap knows that Dream doesn’t mean most of his remarks. Similarly to himself, Dream only makes them as a form of jokes, terrified of the outcome, and that he might have said something wrong. Sapnap makes sure to respond in like manner with a joking tone so that Dream knows it’s okay. To them, Dream is amazing just as he is now._ )

**If we’re here, even with fear**

The world entered a state of apocalypse and if you survived, you were either a soldier, machine, a mob, or just plain old lucky. Most of the survivors just fight to see tomorrow. If you have a genuine goal...well, most survivors gave up on their dreams when the war was lost. The fear of death was too strong.

( _There’s a blue figure pacing back and forth in an abandoned chapel, growing more and more worried by the minute. His friend, the one with a bandana, watches warily, glancing outside every so often to look for the third member of their party, the green man with the smiling mask. Together, they wait for his return, cold fear gripping their heart like a python’s vice grip._ )

( _There’s an android, lost in the streets of the abandoned cities, killing mobs the moment they enter his sight. He cannot stop, the orders programmed into him persisting even after the war is lost and his masters are gone. Deep down, in the hidden confines of what remains of his soul, he fears of what is to come._ )

( _There’s a former scientist heading towards a certain city where there have been rumors of a trio sighted. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his bright colors but he doesn’t mind. He can fend off mecha mobs just fine. He remains collected and calm, ignoring the fear in his heart that is calling for peace._ )

( _There’s a man who flies into the sky, examining the horizon as the sun slowly sets. He takes note of everything that he can see and flies back down to report it to the warrior. The latter sighs as the scout grimaces. They either have to fight through the night again or they’ll have to stay in hiding. Yet again, the daily fear returns, the fear that one of them will die from this wrenched world._ )

( _There’s a lone assassin who hides in the wasteland, never uttering a single word except inside his mind. He’s alone and he wanders, searching for a purpose to still stay alive. He fears that there may be no purpose in him being alive._ )

( _There’s a machine who follows a mysterious priest, a clan of ducks surrounding them. The world is destroyed and ruined and tainted but daily life with the priest and his ducks make it better. Internally, they fear that one day, this life will disappear and they’ll be forced into the chaos again._ )

( _There’s a speedster who makes eye contact with an ex-war machine. The machine has big fists, enough to crush any mecha mob’s body, but instead of wired heads in its hands, it is holding flowers. It looks content and for a moment, the speedster feels jealous that a machine is capable of feeling more peace than him. He swallows down his fear of interacting with strange survivors and decides to move forward to talk to the machine. The machine whirs and the speedster thinks that it looks curiously elated. He doesn’t question it._ )

( _There’s a duo, two boys, so young to have been thrown into this mess, hiding in a bunker. One of them is smiling tiredly as the other happily plays the keyboard. In this small place, they have now called their temporary home, they are at peace despite the fear that runs through their veins._ )

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**We must keep fighting…**

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! Again, please check out Shota on Twitter. Zer art is amazing and I was very captivated by it. I will be including zer Twitter link at the end of the notes.
> 
> I originally finished writing this around the beginning of September and intended to post it on AO3 as the first fic I would ever post on this website. However, I wanted to make it perfect as heck and asked my cousin to edit it. In total, this is a little over 14 google docs pages and she only managed to edit two pages. Understandably, we were both busy. I was superb nervous about posting this because I'm super insecure about posting my fics but instead of waiting 40 years to edit and try to "make it perfect", I decided to just post it. I hope you all enjoyed this even if it's not fully well written!
> 
> I'm probably going to be a weirdo and analyze this whole fic and explain each excerpt at some point on my Twitter cause I lack a life.
> 
> [Also...the tags are lacking cause I really cannot be asked to go through every event excerpt and tag it based on that. I have a physics test waiting for me, luvs.]
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! Kudos, comments, bookmarks, anything is appreciated greatly! Thank you for reading my fic!
> 
> Feel free to come to yell at me on twitter!  
> https://twitter.com/ecinue_unicorn
> 
> Shota's Twitter: https://twitter.com/ATiredShota


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